


Like A Hole In The Head

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [609]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:51:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret requested I fill the Scott/Penny hole in her heart. Typed while a very aggressively affectionate cat headbutts my chin.





	Like A Hole In The Head

“It’s fine,” he says, not even opening his eyes. “T’was barely a scratch.”

Penny pursed her lips, unperturbed at being caught out. “T’was barely twenty staples. No going through metal detectors for you for a little while.”

That gets a smile, and one eye, the unbruised one, cracks open just enough for her to see the twinkle. “However will I cope?”

“Just for that, I’m going downstairs and getting the strongest magnet Brains has.”

His laugh is a little raspy, a reminder of how much smoked seeped into his cracked helmet. She’s asked Brains to keep that helmet. That helmet was why they were having this banter in their bedroom and not the morgue, after all. “Ouch,” he deadpans. “Here I am, on strict bedrest, my best beloved meant to be doting on my every poor whim, and yet here I am, mocked in my own bed.”

“The cast is the only reason you’re not sleeping on the couch, mister.”

She’s looking for it, sees the tiny crease between his eyebrows as he becomes aware once more of the ache wrapped in plaster. “On the couch? What on earth did I do to earn the doghouse?”

She has to lean in, kiss away the wrinkle of hurt. “You tried to pull off some thrilling heroics.”

“I’m Thunderbird One, dear. Thrilling heroics is kind of my thing.”

She kissed him again, then poked his unbroken arm. “The key is _pulling them off_. Not pulling them off and crashing your rocket pack into the side of the cliff wall should never be part of your plans.”

“Duly noted, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” she rolls over, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. The sun is low on the horizon, the sea a millpond out their window. She takes a moment to drink it in, before she pops two of the large, white pills into the palm of her hand.

“Here,” she says, bringing them to him with a glass of water. “Take your medicine.”

“Do I have to?” he pouts as he tries to wiggle his way to sitting against the pillows without jolting his cast or his sprained ankle. “They make me feel all wibbly-wobbly.”

She can’t help her smile; she never could around him. “Well, given your flying lately, wibbly-wobbly should feel nature.”

“Low blow,” he groans, but plucks his pills out of her hand and swallows.

She can see their effect as it seeps over him, muscles loosening and eyes drooping. “Sleep, darling,” she murmurs, brushing her hand over where his hair gives way to an emergency buzz, the crisp white of the bandage. 

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles and falls back asleep.


End file.
